


Don't let me die now (when my fists are clenched for the fight)

by Skyknight1987



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Big Brother Bellamy, Blake siblings-centric, Brother-Sister Relationships, F/M, Feels, Implied Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Protective Octavia, Protective Siblings, The Drift (Pacific Rim)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-07-15 21:31:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7239259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyknight1987/pseuds/Skyknight1987
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Most Jaegar pilots enlist into the PPDC to protect humanity. Octavia enlists to protect Bellamy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't let me die now (when my fists are clenched for the fight)

**Author's Note:**

> Just rewatched Pacific Rim, and binge watched The 100. That is where this little gem took root. I love the Blake sibling dynamic and there really aren't enough stories that focus on that, so I decided to add my own. It was supposed to just be a drabble. But of course all of my stories start off as drabbles and none of them stay that way for long and so...this.
> 
> The title is taken from the Pacific Rim inspired song [The Crush](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9EEtGLLDhNY) by Gavin Dunne (miracleofsound). I thought it was appropriate.

Octavia Blake enters the Jaegar Academy short on options and overburdened with expectations.

Not exactly the most auspicious start on the road to future rock stardom, all things considered. Octavia doesn’t give a rat’s ass. She expects nothing less. She has had an inauspicious start in _life_ and she hasn’t let that hold her back.

Octavia is no stranger to adversity. She and adversity are on first name basis. Octavia was a ghetto kid, born and bred, raised in a part of town no one even wants to acknowledge let alone talk about; so far removed from the vibrant, upscale city that is typically marketed to tourists that it might as well be in another country altogether. She grew up with nothing to call her own but her wits and her elder brother. And while said brother tried to shield her from the harsh realities of life as best as he could, watching him struggle to provide for them both, and being unable to do anything about it, was its own special kind of hell.

So she grows up, faster than most kids her age. She pushes down all the hurt, helplessness and injustice she ever suffered, the memory of every cut, every bruise she cleaned from Bellamy’s skin, every tired expression she saw on his face, until it crystallizes into a steel hard resolve. Before long she is making name for herself on the streets, much to Bellamy’s disapproval. This wasn’t the kind of life he wanted for her, he says, and the disappointment in his voice _hurts._ She was supposed to go to college and get out of the neighborhood. She was supposed to actually _make_ something out of her life.

It breaks Octavia’s heart that there is one more thing Bellamy wants that he can’t have, and worse, that _she’s_ the reason why he can’t have it. But then she thinks about the alternative, her going away to college and leaving Bell behind to scrape together the money for her tuition that she knows they can’t afford, and she just can’t do it.

Because they’ve both had each other’s backs growing up. Because it’s both of them or neither one. Because it’s always been just her and Bell against the world for as long as she can remember. And because neither one of them has ever wanted anything that they couldn’t share with the other.

So she makes a deal with Bellamy. She’ll get out of the neighborhood when he does.

* * *

His opportunity comes a few months later when applies for the Jaegar Academy, which is the only University that he’s ever bothered to apply to, primarily because they’re the only university which pays students to attend rather than the other way around. Provided, of course, that they can pass their extremely rigorous admission process. Tens of thousands of prospects apply worldwide. Only a few dozen are selected.

Bellamy sends his application, which is actually less of an application process and more like the electronic equivalent of raising his hand to volunteer in response to a call to arms. One doesn’t exactly hand in their CV to the Academy. Potential applicants leave their name and contact information along with a medical certificate. The Academy takes it from there. Once they’ve poked and prodded into the applicant’s background and are satisfied with what they’ve found, _if_ they’re satisfied with what they’ve found, the applicant will be invited for a follow up.

Bellamy doesn’t actually expect to make a cut. It is basically a lottery game with the number of applicants that he’ll be competing against, many of whom will be applying along with friends or family members, and thus will receive higher priority as potentially drift compatible pairs. Octavia is too young to enlist, even if Bellamy was comfortable sending her out to fight Godzillas, which he isn’t. He applies anyway, because the application process doesn’t actually cost anything, and because there is no harm in entering into a lottery when he doesn’t have to pay the price of the ticket. If it doesn’t pan out, which it most likely won’t, he is no worse off than he was before. But bitter life experience has taught him better than to actually pin his hopes on anything, much less something with such laughable odds.

Which is why he receives the biggest surprise of his life when the dice actually roll in his favor for once. A few weeks after he sent in his application he is called back for a physical exam and endurance test.

And then back again for the mental aptitude test.

And then finally for the psych eval.

* * *

 

Three weeks later Bellamy is sitting in their apartment, eyes glued to the crisp white paper in his hand bearing the insignia of the PPDC, while Octavia cranes her head to read it over his shoulder.

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been selected for Phase 1 training at…_

He double checks to make sure that it is really him that the letter is addressed to, and that there isn’t some mistake. It is and there isn’t.

It takes a few moments for the implications to sink in, and when they do, they hit him all at once with the force of a tidal wave. Where his brain has been frozen in disbelief just seconds ago, it is now racing with the speed of a roadrunner on steroids as all the possibilities that he hadn’t allowed himself to hope for, to even _dream_ about, threaten to overwhelm his mind.

The stipend itself will, at the very least, enable him to move his family to a better neighborhood and Octavia to a better school. If he makes the final cut, their financial worries are over. In addition to the salary, most pilots make bank from all sorts of side incomes. It's not something he can see himself doing. Going on TV on some Friday night talk show and making nice, pretending to be charming and personable for millions of faceless audience in exchange for a fat check, isn't his cup of tea. But for Octavia, he'll do it. A single product endorsement deal alone will net him more cash than he'll see otherwise. More than enough to pay for Octavia’s college, wherever she chooses to go.

They can stop spending their lives worrying if they enough money to make next week's rent, or even buy food. And Octavia can finally have all the things that he’s always wanted her to have, but could never afford.

It’s almost too big to comprehend.

He suddenly becomes aware that Octavia is still standing behind him, wordless, which is pretty out character for her, come to think about it. He turns around to find her looking at him, wide eyed, the disbelief he can still feel mirrored on her face. He is about to hug her in exultation when the first words she’s said since they got the letter fall from her lips and cut the impromptu celebration short.

“Bell, you _can’t._ ”

He pulls back in surprise. That is when he gets a good look at Octavia’s face. The expression on his sister’s face is raw fear, tinged with desperation.

“Bell, _please_ tell me you aren’t seriously considering this,” she begs, clutching his wrist with surprising strength. The expression in her eyes is the most pleading that he has ever seen on her.

And okay, that stings just a bit. He hadn’t exactly given much thought to what Octavia’s reaction would be, but he figured it would be somewhere along the lines of happy or excited. Not this…whatever it is. Octavia is certainly far from happy or excited. Worried and terrified are probably closer to the truth. Bellamy doesn’t get it. He’s been risking his neck to put food on the table for years, and Octavia knows it. She’s even been there for some of it. Why panic now?

“I _have_ to do this, O,” he says. It is surprising how hard it is to force the words out. He has never been able to deny her anything. She’s never _asked_ for anything. She tries so hard to take care of him and never asks for anything in return. “I have to do this for us.”

“No you don’t,” she says, her voice rising with every word. “You don’t have to throw your damn life away like this. We can figure something out.”

“This is the best chance I’ll ever get,” he says, running his hand through his hair in mounting frustration. This is what they had been working towards their entire lives. This is their golden ticket out of that cesspit of a neighborhood. Doesn’t she understand that? “This might be the _only_ chance I’ll ever get. And this is your best shot at college.”

“ _College?”_ Octavia says incredulously. “You’re, literally, going to your death, and you seriously think I give a fuck about _college?_ ”

“I’m not...”

“Save it Bell, I know the score,” she interrupts, the words now spilling out of her in a torrent. “There’s always going to be another monster. There’s always going to be another mission. It doesn’t matter how good you are, the kaiju will just keep coming.” She stops and swallows hard. “I’m so afraid, Bell,” she whispers. “I’m so afraid that you’ll go out on a mission one day, and you won’t come back.”

Bellamy understands her fears, he really does. Doesn’t change the fact that this is an opportunity that they can’t afford to pass up. “Octavia,” he says, trying to sound reasonable, “this is literally a once in a lifetime opportunity. And we could really use the money.”

 _“I DON’T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT THE GODDAM MONEY,”_ Octavia screams and the half formed retort dies in Bellamy’s throat. It’s not the volume that silences him, it is the ragged edge to her voice that he’s never heard there before. Because he’s no stranger to being yelled at by Octavia – it’s kind of an occupational hazard of being a big brother – but it’s only ever been sound and fury. It’s never been like _this_.

He suddenly notices that Octavia is crying. His strong, tough as boots, take no shit from anyone, sister is actually _crying._ She’s making a token effort to maintain control, but it is a lost cause and she knows it. Her eyes are brimming with unshed tears, her hands are clenched – although that isn’t doing anything to disguise the tremors – and there are splotches of color on her face.

It brings back old half buried memories of a little girl with soft brown eyes who used to curl up in his lap, holding onto him with her tiny fists and sobbing into his shoulder like her heart would break.

“Bell,” Octavia says, her voice breaking, and he thinks he can see glimpses of that little girl from so long ago. He misses her sometimes. “I can’t…I can’t lose you.”

Bellamy sighs, and steels himself for what he is about to say. “You’d do it for me,” he says softly, “wouldn’t you?”

Octavia blinks, opens her mouth to protest and then slowly closes it again as the words sink in. Because _of course_ she would do it for him, what kind of question is that? Because she is every bit as fiercely protective of him as he is of her. And if she would take a bullet for him without a moment’s hesitation, how can she fault him for doing the very same thing for her?

He’s turned her own argument against her, and she can’t help but hate him for it, just a tiny bit. And then, as if he knows what she’s thinking, because Bellamy _always_ knows what she’s thinking, he reaches out and gently pulls her towards him. She resists, because she’s not going to forgive him that easily. But he pulls her again, more insistent this time, and she folds. She wraps her arms around him, buries her face in his shoulder, and hugs him with all of her heart and soul. Because he’s her big brother, and she can’t stay mad at him for long, no matter what.

Bellamy is somewhat surprised at the intensity with which Octavia hugs him. It’s been a while since the last time that she hugged him like that, like her life depends on it, but the ingrained muscle memory in some subconscious part of his brain still remembers how to respond. One hand moves around Octavia’s back, rubbing soothing circles on her spine. The other one strokes her hair cradling her head against his collarbone. It feels familiar, but the angles are all wrong. The last time they did this, Octavia’s head just came up to his chest. She used to wrap her arms around his waist, and bury her head against his chest, like the rest of the world would disappear if she could hold on to him tightly enough.

That was a long time ago. She is older now. Tougher. Taller too, just a couple inches shorter than him. But she is still his baby sister.

“Do me a favour,” Octavia says, her voice muffled against his shoulder, “ _don’t_ do anything stupid. And _please_ try not to get yourself killed.”

Bellamy huffs a laugh, and presses a kiss against her hair. There is a damp spot on his shirt, under Octavia’s head, where her tears have soaked into the fabric, but neither one of them wants to let go just yet. “That’s good advice actually,” he says with faux seriousness. “Do not die. I should look into that. In fact I should probably write it down, just in case I forget it.”

Octavia slaps half-heartedly against his chest. “I mean it, asshole,” she grumbles. “I swear to god I’ll kill you if you die on me.”

That gets another laugh out of him. “Okay,” Bellamy says as he shifts to press a kiss on her soft brown hair. “No stupidity and no getting myself killed, Scout’s Honor.”

She makes a soft indescribable noise. Bellamy takes in the moment, memorizes every single detail. Because this memory, this feeling, is what he’ll be taking to the Academy with him. This is the talisman that he’ll be using to push himself to the finish line. Because everything that he has ever done has been about her, to ensure that she is safe, cared for and loved.

And if it means wading out to sea in an oversize battle robot and physically knocking down any overgrown lizards that crawl out of the hellmouth in the ocean floor, then that’s just what he’ll do.

**Author's Note:**

> So...yeah that happened. What can I say? I was in the mood for feels. Let me know in the comments section if I should continue.
> 
> Meanwhile, a preview of Chapter 2:
> 
> The decision to enlist is made when Hornhead bulldozes past Crimson Thunder and makes it all the way to the heart of the city before the pursuing Jaegar catches up with it again. The next ten minutes are a mind numbing cacophony of earthshaking footsteps, earsplitting screeches, deafening engines, tearing metal and collapsing buildings interspersed with deafening thwacks of metal on flesh and screaming civilians desperately trying to get out of the way. Octavia doesn’t remember much of it. Like all the others, she is too busy trying to avoid being crushed by fallen debris, or trampled by a panicking mob, or stepped on by a skyscraper tall monster.
> 
> The battle culminates with one dead kaiju, one badly damaged giant robot, and one partially demolished city that looks like it has been pounded by a major hurricane followed by an aerial bombing. Octavia stands, face streaked with dust and shattered bits of glass, brick and concrete tangled in her hair, staring numbly at a mountain of rubble. One which, less than a quarter of an hour ago, had been a multistoried residential building that housed her apartment, her things and her mother.
> 
> All of which now lie crushed and buried under several hundred tons of wreckage.


End file.
